


Fourteen Days (And Counting)

by vvulcant



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Bottom James T. Kirk, James T. Kirk Loves Spock, M/M, Musical References, Mutual Pining, Soft Spock, Spock Loves James T. Kirk, Stressed James T. Kirk, T'hy'la, Top Spock, Vulcan Kisses, Vulcan Mind Melds, and they shared a bathroom, oh my god they shared a bathroom, quarantined
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23872018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvulcant/pseuds/vvulcant
Summary: The Enterprise has to go into quarantine. Kirk and Spock keep each other company to pass the time, but not without undiscussed feelings making things awkward.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Spock
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Fourteen Days (And Counting)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in quarantine, so why shouldn't the Enterprise be? :))
> 
> This was just going to be a one-shot but I got carried away, lol. I am not the best at biology, so I can assure you some of my "scientific" explanations in the story are super off and/or convoluted. Just be prepared for that.

“We need to do _what_?”

Captain James T. Kirk leaned toward Dr. Leonard McCoy over his desk. 

“It’s the most logical thing to do, Jim!” 

“Bones, you’re talking about a ship-wide quarantine!”

Jim straightened his back, removing his hands from the smooth wooden material of the desk. Two weeks ago, the _Enterprise_ had been assigned to to observe and gather data from Harkos IV, a class M planet that scans showed had an atmosphere nearly identical to Earth’s. The Federation hoped to establish a colony on this new planet, but knew little about the surface, and so five crew members had beamed down, all science officers that specialized in varying aspects of planetary research. Their observations had deemed the planet suitable for human and alien life, with vegetation able to be ingested, and soil rich in nutrients that human crops could easily adapt to. It was perfect by all standards. 

Until Bones informed Jim a week later that all members of the away team had contracted a virus and brought it back to the ship. But he then assured there was little to worry about since it was similar to the flu, and that there were only a few members infected so it was under control. 

It no longer sounded under control.

Bones uncrossed his arms, his southern inflection creeping out with his frustration. “I’m talking about saving the ship from a pandemic!”

“A week ago, you told me everything was under control. Now you’re talking about a pandemic?” 

“A week ago more than half the crew wasn’t infected!”

Jim’s eyes widened as his stomach dropped. “ _More than half_?” 

Bones nodded solemnly. 

Jim sighed, blinking in shock at the information he had just been told. He could feel anxiety flooding into him. “Okay, so, give them a vaccine. We-”

“That’s the thing. We don’t have a damn vaccine.” Bones’ voice was tight, whether from anger or frustration Jim couldn’t tell. 

“You aren’t any closer to finding one?”

“No.” Bones sat wearily in a chair across from Jim. “The tests we ran showed the virus is similar to a strain that appeared on Earth in the early twenty-first century, so we tried to modify the vaccine documented to account for the genetic differences in this virus, but it didn’t work.” 

Jim nodded slowly. “Have there been any fatal cases?”

“One.” Bones pursed his lips. 

“Only one out of the two hundred infected?” Jim said in surprise, but there was sadness laced in his tone. He didn’t like losing any member of his crew. “That’s… saddening, but hardly reason for a quarantine, Bones.”

“Jim, it’s spreading quicker than any other virus I’ve seen. One of the infected was in the mess hall one day and everyone in the room at the time was infected the next. And not only that, the genetic makeup of the virus varies in every few people, even though it all has the basic gene structure and code.”

“It’s evolving?” 

“Yes, which means it’s mutating — it could _become_ deadly. _That’s_ what I’m worried about. It’s not deadly now, but if we aren’t careful it could be.”

There was a heavy silence. Jim pursed his lips and slowly lowered himself into his desk chair. This situation did not necessarily require a quarantine according to regulation, however, regulation also said if the CMO believed the situation called for it, the recommendation should be adhered to. Jim knew the _Enterprise_ had orders from Starfleet, and he didn’t want to have to force another ship to deter from their course to carry them out for them. But he did not want the spread of a virus — that could potentially kill _millions_ if it continued to evolve — to be on his conscience. He didn’t want people to die because of his ignorance. 

“How long would it need to last?” He leaned over the table on his forearms. 

Bones shrugged. “As long as it takes to find a vaccine that works.” 

Jim sighed out of his annoyance of the uncertainty. “I’ll tell Command. You’re dismissed, thank you, Bones.”

Bones got the message, nodding as he stood. He made his way to the door of Jim’s quarters, but paused before he left. “Trust me, you’re doing the right thing, Jim.”

“I sure hope so.” Jim mumbled to himself, and the door whooshed closed, leaving him sitting out at his desk with his head in his hands. He breathed a trembling sigh. His heartbeat was drumming against his chest and in his ears. He hadn’t realized how overwhelmed he was until then, because he was pushing it down as not to worry Bones further.

His fingers found the comm panel on his desk, eyes still fixed on the desk and one hand still holding his head up. 

“Kirk to Uhura.” He said, opening a channel to the bridge. 

“ _Uhura here._ ” She answered almost immediately. 

“Inform Starfleet Command that by the order of Chief Medical Officer Dr. McCoy, the _Enterprise_ is implementing a ship-wide quarantine — effective immediately.” 

A silence hung over the line for a few seconds before she replied: “ _Repeat, sir — a ship-wide quarantine?_ ” 

“Yes.” Said Jim quietly. “You have your orders, Lieutenant. I’ll be on the bridge to make an announcement to the crew shortly. Kirk out.” 

He closed the line. He wasn’t exactly happy about having to put a quarantine in place, because Starfleet regulation states that in the event of a quarantine that captains and other senior officers were required to isolate themselves for their protection. That meant Jim would not be able to work on the bridge to distract himself from worrying, and he would be confined to quarters with only his thoughts. Four hundred lives were on his hands. He knew it was his job to protect his crew. But he couldn’t help but think that it may not work — that the virus could still spread through the ship. That it would infect the entire crew, mutate further, become deadly, then—

“Captain?”

Jim jumped slightly with surprise and looked up to see Spock standing in the doorway, arms folded behind his back. His face was inanimate as it always was, but there was an unmissable concern in his eyes. 

“Spock,” Jim’s voice caught as swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat as a relief swept over him at the sight of Spock. He attempted to put a resolute look on his face, hoping Spock hadn’t noticed something was troubling him. 

“Something is troubling you.” The Vulcan observed, stepping further into the room. 

Jim smiled weakly. He didn’t know why he bothered to try to hide from Spock anymore. His first officer knew him better than anyone he had ever known. Spock knew what he was feeling without anything having to be said, and somehow knew just how to comfort him. 

Because of this, Spock was distressed to see that his captain was sitting at his desk on the verge of tears. Spock knew Jim did not get upset like this while on duty without good reason. His mind raced, and he deduced the captain had just heard some difficult news, or that he had just made a difficult decision. Either way, Spock wanted to comfort him. He wanted to reach to him; to _touch_ him to let him know that he was there for him. The Vulcan stopped himself before he allowed the thought to process fully. _Illogical_ , he scolded himself. It was not guaranteed to improve Jim’s mental state.

He had to stay professional, for his own sake. Even if he didn’t want to. 

“Yeah, um,” Jim started, swallowing thickly and furrowing his brow, staring at down at the desk in front of him. “I’m putting a quarantine in place, as suggested by Bones. Ship-wide, to prevent that virus the away team brought back from spreading further.” 

Spock nodded as he processed this information. Dr. McCoy had mentioned to him only hours before how the virus was mutating so quickly that it may be impossible to find a vaccine in the near future. He decided to refrain from telling Jim that until the situation deemed it important. 

“That is a wise decision.” Spock said after some internal debate on what to say, taking another step to the desk. 

Jim made a soft noise of uncertain agreement, his nails mindlessly scratching against the wood of his desk. 

“Why are you doubting it?” Spock questioned. 

“I’m not.” Jim looked up indignantly. 

Spock raised an incredulous brow. He knew Jim too well for that answer to suffice for his thoughts. 

“I’m not worried about the quarantine itself. It’s just,” Jim eventually sighed. “What if we take all these precautions, and then it still spreads? What if we think we’ve stopped the spread, and we go back to normal, but then it comes back mutated enough to eventually kill everyone on the ship? And what if we unintentionally allow it to spread and—” 

“Jim,” Spock stopped him. 

Jim looked up at Spock, eyes still fighting back tears. Spock’s heart clenched in his side at the sight. He hesitantly put a hand on Jim’s shoulder, fingers lingering gently before his entire hand followed, sending a wave of comfort through Jim. Both men gasped softly at the contact because both received waves of the other’s emotions. There was a comfortable silence for a few moments, where Jim simply stared at the Vulcan’s hand on his shoulder, and Spock took in the emotions the man was feeling. Stress, anxiety, a flicker of grief; and now… _affection_.

Spock’s heart skipped a beat. 

But he told himself it was just because Jim needed the comfort of someone he trusted, and dismissed the feeling (with difficulty) to focus on the conversation at hand. 

“I see no logic in stressing over situations that may not come to pass.” Spock finally spoke gently. 

“I can’t help it.” Said Jim softly, looking down at his lap. “Four hundred lives are in my hands, and it’s my job to protect them. And as many others as I can.”

Spock pursed his lips. “You will not be able to save everyone at risk. However, you are saving those you can with this quarantine. The chances of it being effective are 70.9%, and if it is, I am certain that you will have saved more.”

70.9%. 

Those were good odds, and it gave Jim some peace of mind. He would have rather them be 100%, but he was glad they were above 50%, even if only slightly. 

He looked back up at Spock. “I guess that’s better than 7%.”

Spock’s lips twitched up in a smile, just for a moment, but his eyes crinkled at the edges. Jim knew that meant he was amused. Their gaze lingered, Jim taking in one of the moments where Spock’s visage let emotions slip past, wishing it happened more. Jim considered putting a hand on Spock’s, but he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries incase he misinterpreted the touch. He didn’t want to lose the feeling of Spock’s presence, the feeling of his hand on his shoulder, or the sensation of comfort being pumped into him as though it were a drug. But now was not the time for it. 

“Um,” Jim blinked, suddenly feeling his cheeks heat up. Finally he took his eyes from Spock’s and standing up. Spock’s hand fell from his shoulder and back to its place behind his back. “We should get to the bridge. We have a quarantine to announce.” 


End file.
